The Beginning of the End
by Mynstrel
Summary: 7th year at Hogwarts. Certain people are dead, others have shown their true colors. Last chance to save the world.
1. Default Chapter

The Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End

A/N: I'm taking a stab at trying a longer story with an actual plot. Don't know how successful I will be, but I'm gonna try. Wish me luck. 

This happens during Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts.

Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling

**********************************************************

"What are you going to do when all this is over?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at Hermione.

"That's assuming we survive all this," he pointed out.

"Hope springs eternal."

"Optimists have to be careful they don't fall on their faces."

"And pessimists have to remember that life is for the living," she said.

"The living can have it," he finished bitterly. "The dead don't want it."

Hermione was silent, staring at her friend. The war had changed everyone, but Harry still looked like the young boy she had first met on the Hogwarts Express. He was taller, of course, and slender instead of skinny, but his hair still grew in a chaotic tangle and there was something of the wonderment they had all experienced in those first days that lingered around the Boy Who Lived.

Except in his eyes. Those emerald orbs did not sparkle anymore, they watched and calculated. They were not filled with laughter, but with grief and anger. When she looked into Harry's too-old eyes that she could see the full extent of the damage wrought by Voldemort.

"Harry," she said slowly, "if we're not fighting for the _living_, who _are_ we fighting for?"

He met her eyes, their grief reflecting back.

"For the dead," he said, "so they can rest in peace."

~So many dead. Snape in their 5th year, the Dursley's, too. The only bright spot had been the capture of Pettigrew and the exoneration of Sirius Black. The Creevy brothers and a dozen other muggle-born wizards and witches the summer before their 6th year. That had forced Fudge to admit Voldemort was back. And countless others, a litany of names, killed in the ongoing battle between Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. And then, just last summer....~

"Harry," Hermione's voice broke, "I can't believe that they would want

us to get ourselves killed."

"We'll never know now will we? Thanks to Voldemort and Ron, we'll never know."

Harry stood abruptly and paced the room.

~The Weasleys were dead.~

"Where is he?" Harry growled.

~The Weasleys were dead, struck down by Voldemort.~

"Something's gone wrong," Harry said, peering out a window.

~Voldemort, using information supplied by one of their own, Ron Weasley, Death Eater had killed the Weasleys. The Grangers had been at that party. They had died shortly after of their wounds at St. Mungo's.~

"He should have been here by now. I've got a bad feeling about this, Mione. Get you wand out."

Hermione could feel the hairs on the back of her neck lifting.

With a sudden pop, two figures appeared in the center of the room. One, blond-haired and coldly handsome, was Draco Malfoy. He was supporting a half-conscious Sirius Black.

"We have to get out of here," Draco yelled when he saw them. "They're right behind me."

With a curse, Harry sprinted to help Draco drag Sirius to the Portkey on the table. Hermione stood waiting, wand out. They touched the delicate statue....

Sirius was okay. Madam Pomfrey said he had a concussion, but would be fine. Harry had to keep repeating that to himself. When he had seen Sirius hanging so limp in Draco's arms, his blood had run cold at the idea of adding his godfather's name to the list of dead that waited patiently in his dreams for Voldemort's downfall.

A second year peered through the door, sending him a bright, flashing grin.

"Harry," he piped, "the Headmaster wants to talk to you!"

"Okay, Davie, thanks."

The student scurried away down the hallway, content in the knowledge that the great, infamous Harry Potter would win in the end.

Draco and Hermione were sitting close together on the bench outside Dumbledore's office. 

"Harry," Draco said, when he glimpsed him in the corridor.

"Sirius is fine, Draco. Madam Pomfrey says your quick thinking saved his life."

A pale flush worked its way up his skin and he lowered confused eyes to the girl at his side. Draco still wasn't used to the easy acceptance and compliments of new friends he had found.

To give him time to recover, Hermione stood, addressing Harry. "Professor Dumbledore said to come in as soon as you got here."

Dumbledore wasn't alone in his office.

"Remus!"

The tall werewolf bounded out of his chair to meet Harry and Hermione. Malfoy stood back, trying to melt into the shadows, watching the reunion hungrily.

Remus stepped away from his friends and approached the silent boy. Remus stared at him for a long time, his pale, wolfish eyes seeming to stare into Malfoy's soul. Finally, Remus held out one long-fingered hand. Malfoy hesitantly slid his shaking hand into the waiting paw.

"Draco," Remus affirmed quietly, welcoming him fully into Harry Potter's inner circle, breaking the last chains of his past.

Draco felt a grin spread across his face as he met the werewolves' calm eyes. Draco laid his last fears and doubts aside and left the cold behind, joining the group by the fireplace, gratefully accepting a goblet of pumpkin juice and a kiss from Hermione, blushing when he met Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.

"How is Sirius, Harry?" Dumbledore asked shortly after, startling Remus.

"Padfoot? You didn't tell me he was hurt!" Remus growled, half out of his seat.

"He's okay," Harry said, raising his voice to be heard. "Madame Pomfrey said he should be waking up soon."

"That's good, very good." Dumbledore put his goblet on a convenient table and stood, walking to his desk. The others also stood, drifting closer, warily watching the wily old wizard.

"We have a choice," he said quietly, " we can either continue the way we are, fighting little skirmishes, losing good witches and wizards, while not even denting Voldemort. Or," he stared at them one by one; "we can attack him."

They were silent, staring at Dumbledore. They had talked about this in the past, agreed if the opportunity ever came, that an assault on Voldemort himself, while suicidal, was their best chance.

"You've found him," Draco said quietly.

Dumbledore nodded. "I've found him."

A/N: I know this first chapter is kinda awkward, but it'll get better I promise.


	2. Christmas

the end 2

The Beginning of the End

Chapter 2: Christmas 

Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling

**************************************************************

It was hard to celebrate Christmas when the wizarding world lived in fear, but at Hogwarts they tried. For a few days they made an effort to forget that beyond their walls people, both magical and muggle, were dying. There were few students or teachers at Hogwarts that had not lost someone. Beds were empty that just the year before had belonged to laughing teenagers. Chairs at the high table were empty, professors struck down by Voldemort and his minions.

One reason they made an effort at Christmas was for the children. Many wizarding families in an effort to protect their children had sent their sons and daughters to Hogwarts, not for education, but for safety. Children as young as 4 played in the halls and slept in the renovated wing. When Voldemort made no distinction between fully qualified witches and wizards and harmless children, Harry had prevailed upon Dumbledore to offer sanctuary to them. 

This Christmas, his last at Hogwarts one way or another, Harry made a promise to himself that he would enjoy this holiday in a way he hadn't since his first years at Hogwarts. Hermione and others, including Ginny, the remaining Weasley, obviously made the same decision. Laughter was more common, silly games involving much racing through the corridors and giggling was the norm, and snowball fights were de riguer. 

Just now, Harry Potter and his friends were not thinking about Voldemort or Death Eaters, though they were thinking about fighting. Fighting involving snowballs to be exact. Tannis, a 5-year-old who had latched onto Harry when Harry had pulled him out of his destroyed home the year before, glanced at Harry for orders. Harry glanced over the railing to the Great Hall below him. He could see Draco Malfoy in the far corner, marshaling his diminutive troops. He glanced up and waved. Harry nodded and turned to his own pint-sized fighters. There was Tannis, Michael, one of the youngest kids at Hogwarts at 4, Jasmine was the oldest in his group at 8 with Angela a year younger. 

"Okay, troops, listen up. Do you have the snowballs?" 

The kids eagerly held up their mittened palms where charmed snowballs sat in pristine glory, not even dripping on the polished floors. 

"All right. Now you know what to do. When Hermione and the others come in that door, chunk those snowballs as hard at you can at them, then scatter. Regroup at the Gryffindor Common Room. Stay out of site and if you see someone coming that isn't wearing a red armband what do you do?"

"Run," piped Michael. 

Jasmine nodded. "And hide." 

"Until someone on our team comes for us," finished Angela. 

"That's perfect. Get in position," he said, catching Draco's signal from the door. "They're coming." 

Watching the children, little more than babies, he allowed the thought to cross his mind that this game was excellent training if Voldemort ever attacked Hogwarts. Run. Hide. Don't come out until someone you know comes for you. He shook his head sharply, crawling to peer over the rail, determined to forget, just for while, that the world wasn't a perfect, gentle place, that there were people who wanted him and his friends dead. 

The door creaked open and a child peaked through, a blond he recognized as the leader of Hermione's little band. She ducked out of the door, then crept through again, leading the way. Hermione wasn't in site, which made Harry nervous. Hermione was devious, it was entirely possible she would send the kids in the front while she attacked in ... 

AMBUSH.

A wet, sloppy snowball splatted on his neck, dripping quickly down his back. With a yell he rolled and lobbed his own snowball, catching a 10-year old boy square in the face. Draco and his troops thundered up the stairs to the rescue, while Harry and his group retreated down the hallway, trying to get a shot at the bobbing heads of their attackers. When Draco sprinted past him, Harry shouted retreat and led his band around the corner, sending them towards the Gryffindor Common Room, before swinging back to join Draco. Except he didn't make it. Sparkling eyes greeted him. 

Harry immediately backed up, putting out a conciliatory hand, desperately trying to remember if there were any hidden corridors around. Ginny grinned widely, bouncing her snowball in one hand. Harry really didn't want to experience a Ginny-improved snowball. Last time, his hair had danced for 2 days before Hermione had relented and performed a counter-spell. 

Suddenly Harry yelled and pointed over her shoulder. Ginny whirled, raising her arm. Harry grabbed her hand and smashed the snowball into her flaming locks, before jumping behind a tapestry and through the door that led to the 3rd floor corridor just below the Gryffindor Common Room, where he rounded up his giggling conspirators and sent them back to their own dorm to change into dry clothes. 

Considering Hermione's penchant for ambush and Ginny's charmed snowballs, Harry thought it prudent to retrieve his invisibility cloak. He opened the door to the now 7th year dorm and saw something he had not expected. He stared horrified at the sight before him, stunned into immobility. 

"You didn't think you would get away from me that easily, did you?" 

Smirking Hermione, Ginny and their cohorts threw their charmed snowballs at him. Even the superb reflexes of a Seeker could not protect Harry against the barrage of snowballs. He threw his arms over his head, twisting and turning, yelping when the cold snow trickled down the back of his sweater and into his pants. To add to the indignity of being ambushed by two girls and little children, the snowballs were indeed charmed. 

At the feast that evening Harry good-naturedly put up with the many compliments he received for his new hair-style, electric purple ringlets, and the feather boa (constrictor) that hung around his neck, adding it's opinions to the proceedings. Everything he touched turned to gold, meaning he had to rely on the giggling and not too accurate assistance of Tannis for every bite he took. He did not grumble over this for the giggles were the most he had ever heard Tannis say since he had rescued him. 

The only thing he put his foot down on where the bunny slippers. He refused to wear something that hopped and wiggled its nose. It didn't matter in the end, for the slippers, Dirk and Doug, followed him down to the Great Hall, making great heartbroken noises until he relented and put them on, where-by they started complaining that his feet where cold. 

Harry and Tannis were sitting by themselves near the end of the table, Harry endeavoring to ignore the snickers caused by the commentary of his apparel, when the doors to the Great Hall burst open. 

A/N: man, now I know why folks love to write in cliffhangers! It's so much fun. The power of it all….lol, thanks for reading.


End file.
